Marrying Mr. Greyson

Chapter 1:

Sienna’s POV

“I swear on my fucking life, Jace. If you ever call me again, I’m going to kill you! I swear!” I slammed the phone on the table as I disconnected the call, fuming by the kitchen island.

My life was nothing short of meaning. The bills from the last past months were piled on the fridge, some stapled to the door fridge like a recipe for cooking. As a reminder. Oftentimes as we went down to the kitchen our eyes would cast a glance at the fridge. That was the whole essence.

I was the eldest of the two girls of my mother, suffering from an alcoholic absent father and a gambler who was also in debt.

And the person I had on the phone was my ex-boyfriend. I’d walked in on him pounding himself into my one and only friend. As a person, I was quick to temper, however, on the day when my father had assaulted me, and taken my last penny to go and gamble, I had walked to his house barefooted with shards of glass in my skin. I had walked despite the pain to his house because I believed that the only way I could get the heaviness in my heart out was by letting the pain from the cuts linger. The pain offered some sort of relief. I couldn’t cry. The tears never fell.

I wanted to just forget, I wanted him to make me forget my miserable life but instead of the comfort I’d sought, my heart had stopped and shattered at the scene that welcomed me.

Their moans filled my ears even as tears pooled in my eyes. I stood there for a good fifteen minutes without either of them noticing. I stood out by the door, bruised lips, cut feet, and a breaking heart looking at them as tears silently rolled down my cheeks. My body was still pulsating from the welts that I’d earned from my father, throbbing and drumming with pain.

All the pain from the beating dulled out as I stared at them, legs trembling and lips quivering.

It was only when the pain had been too much to bear that I let out a sob. It was only then that they saw me. I couldn’t do anything, I was numb. For someone who had a volcanic feeling, I’d been eerily quiet that day.

Before he could wear his pants and come after me, I’d left. I didn’t know how it happened, how I had been so cool but the hurt, the pain, and the beating were too much of emotions that instead of erupting as I would normally do, I had shut down. Everything.

He’d called me ever since, begged, pleaded. But over time the anger that I’d subdued roared to life like a match struck on dry woods. It burned and flared.

“Are you crying?” Those words were issued with a grunt.

My fingers came up to wipe the strand of tears that had fallen. That was the same reaction every time I thought about him. Tears spilled unknowingly. How pathetic.

“No light.” My younger sister, Amy hollered from the bathroom. “What the fuck!”

They had disconnected us, we were behind in two months' electric bill. I stared at the small space we rented, behind in bills still. The bottle of liquor, empty and filled ones piled on the kitchen island, courtesy of my father. Leftover pizzas, empty cartons without an ounce of vegetables. My eyes took in the mess of the life I lead, heading for a crash.

“Sienna! Sienna!” The urgent call from my sister’s voice ripped me from my self-loathing to my actual life. The pathetic one.

“Sienna!”

This time the charge was with a more urgent and scared voice. I bolted from the kitchen with a break neck speed. I knew where the call was coming from. The bedroom. Not just any bedroom. The only bedroom in this house. Mother’s.

I kicked the door open to see my youngest sister holding her on her thighs, sobbing.

My eyes lingered on their position for the shortest while that felt like an eternity before I broke the ice on my feet.

I didn’t ask questions. There was no need for it. I just acted by reflex. I rushed towards them, picked up my mother, placed her behind my back, and ran down the stairs.

My sister was beside me, crying and trailing. As I ran I felt my mother bop by my back. Weight as heavy as metal. Her breathing had slowed or had stopped. I couldn’t decipher which. The cold gripping hand of fear took root in my stomach like a virus, spreading, absorbing, and eating at me as I ran. We stopped a vehicle and dashed inside. My sister was right beside me.

The new cut on my leg meant nothing, nor the sharp pain that traveled up my spine. My vision was blurry as we drove to the hospital, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Emergency! Emergency! Help!” I dashed into the hospital the moment the car came to a stop, not even stopping fully.

I didn’t wait for the nurses to come to me. I sprinted inside the hospital. They surrounded me and in no time she was taken from me.

The back of my head throbbed with pain as they took her further from me. The more space they set between us the more I felt like I was losing her. The more I felt her life slip from me——-then I kicked off running again after them. I wanted to hold her. If I held her it meant I held her life.

However there was never a light at the end of the tunnel, just as I was about to latch onto her hand, they ran her into a ward and the door shut after them.

I felt a hand take mine with a soft gentle touch. Beth. My last sister and the closest to my mother. I didn’t need to look at her to feel the weight of her gaze. Or to feel the question dancing at the tip of her tongue. I squeezed down on her hand. Trying to force her little strength into my fimble body.

“Is she going to be alright?” Her voice, soft as a feather, asked.

I couldn’t answer, there was a lump in my throat. A hot one piercing at my throat. So instead of answering I bobbed my head and crouched down. I wiped her eyes clean with the pad of my thumb and forced out a smile. “She will be. I promise.”

After minutes of waiting. The doctor called my attention. My sister was about to follow, but I pressed a long hard kiss on her cheeks. “It’s okay Beth, wait for me here.”

She was about to refuse but upon sighting the gentle look from me she moved back and I squeezed out an appreciative smile at her before going with the doctor.

It was as if stepping into his office confirmed my fear. This hospital was big, but it didn’t feel nearly big enough. My breath hitched, knocked out of me as the door shut.

With a clumped throat, I asked, “Is she alright? What happened to her? Will she be okay? When will she be discharged.”

After the doctor was sure I’d thrown all my questions, he gently spoke, “Miss Sienna.” He called in a sullen tone and my heart sank. “I regret to inform you that your mother has acute cancer, specifically leukemia.”

My heart thumped twice then stopped. Time stopped and a shudder ran down my spine. Goosebumps spread across my skin and a cold snaked up my arms, up to the back of my head.

It was as if I was drenched in a bucket of ice water.

“Ho…. How…how can we treat her?” My voice was barely above a whisper. Tears gathered in my eyes and my throat stung with a burning lump.

“Because her condition is very critical, we have to go into therapeutic trials. It's delicate and we must commence treatment.” The doctor said with all professionalism.

I clenched my fingers as the next question lingered on my lips, I fisted my hands into a ball and shut down every feeling. “How much….” I shifted on my chair, readjusting whilst taking in a deep breath. “How much would that cost roughly?”

His eyes grew soft as he said, “$460,000.”

For the second time, I felt time stop and the walls in the office slammed into me. I couldn’t breathe and my once dead heart drummed with fear and adrenaline. I spaced out after that.

******

As I left his office, the figure reeled in my head. All I saw was the amount and my lifeless mother in the ward.

I took Beth home. I ignored all her questions throughout the ride. How could I get such an amount of money? Who could I go to? How long could I work to squeeze out one-quarter of the money?

Would she be okay? Beth’s voice echoed in my head as did my promise to her and I swallowed down a lump in my throat, blinking in the scorching tears.

Just as I dropped her at home. My sister, Amy yelled triumphantly, “I gained admission! I got in! I’m going to college!!”

I stopped. Dead. Staring at her.

She was happy, grinning.

Mother was sick, dying.

My phone buzzed with a call from Jace and right there and then, I snapped. All the heat and steam I had subdued to not be my father’s daughter cracked out like a flame, roaring and soaring to life, desperate to consume everything in its path.

I shut the front door and took the bat from the front porch. I had to let the heat out.

A rush of fury surged through my veins, up through my arms to my head as I stomped away with the bat in my hand, my phone still ringing.

Upon arriving at his house, I gave a brief knock and just as the door opened, my anger broke through like a dam and I used the bat with all the rage burning inside of me.